DNA
by EmilieHenderson99
Summary: Sometimes it's too late to turn things around and Logan's just beginning to realise this now.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I wrote this based off of a roleplay character I use named Ristee. I just loved how it came out and wanted to share it with you guys, so I switched out my character's name with Logan's. :) **

**Also, I've been into "Little Mix" lately and their song "DNA" helped to inspire this as well.**

**Enjoy!**

Logan snuggled under the oversized hoodie he was wearing and pulled the sleeves down so they'd cover his hands. It was spring, but Minnesota always seemed to have a slight chill in the air before the sun fully rose. Part of him still wanted to be warm, under his blankets, and in bed...but more of him wanted to do this so badly, sending the man out of the house at 5AM. He peered at the empty roads and sidewalks, even all the shops were completely abandoned. Occasionally, a car would whip by, making Logan fear that it'd cause a puddle to splash up and make him even colder than he already was; maybe wearing shorts wasn't such a great idea after all.

His eyes lit up, though, when a sign appeared from behind a tall building that had hid it when he was farther down the street. The banner put a bitter-sweet smile on his face. He hadn't been to Skyline Dance Academy in four years, and now, rather than being a dance instructor, he was stuck as a Maths teacher around the block. A bit of anger flickered in his heart when he remembered how he got fired. The words "_Logie, you just aren't healthy enough to teach these kids...you aren't setting a good example at all, either_" blared in his mind, but he honestly shouldn't have been mad, he did bring the issue on himself, after all.

Digging around in his pockets, Logan managed to pull out the spare key to the studio that he still owned. The click of the lock made a sudden desire to dance again form in his gut, so he waltzed in and tossed his backpack to the side of the area. It created an echo when it hit the floor; damn, that place was empty. All that sat at the back of the room was a radio, Logan's old radio...this must've been his old room. He even still saw his mix-tape and when he spotted that it made him grin.

"Perfect." He thought to himself, turning to now face the mirror. He hadn't _truly _looked at himself all together in a long time now. The was no way he could do his signature routine with a baggy sweatshirt on, though, so with bony fingers, he pulled the fabric over his head and smoothed his hair back to its normal position afterwards. He took one good glance at himself before squinting his eyes shut. He didn't want to look anymore...it hurt. The refection revealed what a mess he had become within the course of 4 years.

There stood a 19-year-old man who was at least 5'6 but had to weight 100lbs...even that was a far stretch. Maybe more like 90...80, could've he gotten to 70...? Logan hadn't worn anything that exposed his body like the tank top he had on at that moment in so long; he nearly forgot how bad things were. He ran his hands up and down his arms-he was so close to having nothing but bone left and the thoughts of withering away sent chills down his spine.

He looked at the mirror again, but this time he say the old Logan. The one who weighed 130lbs. The one who was a normal size, but just couldn't get over his jealousy of the students he taught. They were all so...thin and he wasn't, or at least he didn't think he was. He could've sworn that sometimes, when he looked at himself back then, he saw a completely different person than who he really was. The monsters inside his mind just couldn't allow his eyes to see the real Logan, instead they distorted the image and dragged him head first into bulimia with no regrets whatsoever. Maybe he should've accepted help when people offered it; now he was nothing but alone and looked like death warmed over him.

_"Logie, let us help you...we know there's something wrong!" _They say.

_"Logie, you have a problem!" _They say.

_"Logie, you need help!" _They say.

But there wasn't anything _wrong_ with binging or purging. It wasn't a _problem_ if he kept it balanced; eating himself silly was nothing if he just threw it all up afterwards, right? In fact, it was like it never happened. He didn't need _help_ either...he truly believed that what he did was normal. He _did _want to be skinny, and he _did _get that, after all, but there was a difference between thin and sick. Logan was sick...very, very sick. The man couldn't stand it anymore, he was tired of wallowing in self-pity, so he walked over to the stereo and popped the CD into the slot, switching over to track 4..._his _special track.

The song blasted and banged against the four, mirror-clad walls that surrounded Logan. He let the sound fill his body and the routine replayed in his mind instantly. He threw his hands into the air and began. He watched himself in the glass as he crossed his feet over each other and pulled his body backwards to touch the ground; he was ill, but still flexible nonetheless. The words hit him more than anything and during the chorus he whispered the lyrics under his breath.

_"And my heart won't beat again, if I can't feel him in my veins, no need to question, I already know..." _Logan murmured, dancing along to the pitch and mood to the song.

Every few seconds he'd fall in and out of hallucinations; one moment he saw overweight-Logan, and the next, there stood underweight-Logan. He hated both immensely in that moment. Both were ugly, terrible, little minded people. Shallow and narcissistic. He felt disgusted just thinking about them; he wanted to get rid of them, but they lingered and laughed, mocking him. He wanted so badly to drop to his knees and rip his hair out of frustration, he didn't though, and replaced those feelings by drowning out the world around him and dancing. Nothing but dance.

_"It's in his DNA...D-D-D-DNA! It's in his DNA, and he just takes my breath away...b-b-b-breath away! I feel it every day..." _He chanted as the words dug through his skull and into his brain. The periwinkle tank top he wore fluttered as he spun around and pulled his body through the routine. He panted, but ignored it...he couldn't stop, not now.

_"...and that's what makes a man, not hard to understand. Perfect in every way, I see it in his face. Nothing more to say. It's in his D-D-D-DNA!" _His voice grew louder, you could now hear it over the singers of the song. Anger dripped like venom from his mouth as his lips smacked together and sang the chorus.

By the time the last bridge had ended to the song, Logan was out of breath, but he sucked it up, inching closer to the mirror and continuing to sing along with the track, _"__It's all about his kiss, contaminates my lips. Our energy connects, it's simple genetics. I'm the X to his Y, it's the colour of his eyes. He can do no wrong! No, he don't need to try! Made from the best, he passes all the tests. Got my heart beating fast...it's cardiac arrest!" _

Logan was now face to face with his reflection, screaming the lyrics to himself so loudly that it blistered the back of his throat, _"__He's from a different strain, that science can't explain! I guess that's how he's made...in his d-d-d-DNA!" _

The man pounded on the glass with his fist, and continued on with the dance. He wasn't stopping, but he couldn't let his image get away with the hell it had put him through for the past 4 years either. He was shocked that the mirror didn't break or shatter when he hit them, even if it did, he was still doing it anyways. He dragged his nails against the glass, scratching and tinting them, it hurt so bad, but felt amazing at the same time. He held all the power in that moment. Mr. Reflection wasn't controlling his actions any longer...it was _all _Logan.

_"__It's in MY DNA...D-D-D-DNA! It's in MY DNA, and I just takes MY breath away...b-b-b-breath away! I feel it every day!" _Confidence trickled down from his lips as he shouted his own words to the song.

_"...and that's what makes a man, not hard to understand!" _He wouldn't allow himself to turn away from his image in the mirror.

_"I'M perfect in every way!" _He _loved_ himself.

_"I see it in MY face!" _He deserved so much better.

_"Nothing more to say!" _He was going to stop, he was going to pull his life back together.

Suddenly, the music faded out and with that, Logan fell to the ground. He closed his eyes and panted heavily, his mind racing with thoughts. He ignored the fact that he was playing the song so loudly that it blew out the speakers; he had more important things to deal with. A stereo could be replaced easily, but confidence in Logan was dangerously rare.

"It's in _my_ D-D-D-DNA..." He whispered, finishing the song himself. The emptiness of the room nearly swallowed him up and even the meek voice he was using at the moment sounded like a roar; it was so very quiet in there. He was so...lonely.

Logan sat up to face the glass again and fixate on his sickly form, "Oh, gosh. What have I done...?"

He sighed, knowing that it'd take years to get back to a normal weight, let alone break his awful habits. He needed to fix things, though, he couldn't go on with life like this; now if only he just noticed sooner, then he wouldn't be so alone.

**I'm really proud of this piece, so I hope you liked it as much as I did. :) **

**xoxo**

**~EMiLiE**


	2. Chapter 2

Logan was caught off guard when he heard footsteps from down the hallway that lead out of the far right of his studio. _Oh gosh, oh gosh...stand up, quick...leave...wait, no, no...focus on getting your sweatshirt instead. _The brunette's mind raced as his eyes darted around the room for where he had left his jacket; if he was going to be caught, he certainly didn't want it to happen while his bony arms and chest were exposed. It was too late, though, because when he spotted the fabric, it was lifted up off the ground by a pale hand.

"Looking for something?"

"What are you doing?!" Logan flipped, "B-Barging in on me...l-like, don't you know how to k-knock?!" He snatched the hoodie and yanked it over his nearly bare top half.

"Um...barging in on _you_? Excuse me, but this is _my _studio. You're the one who just walked in. I don't even know who you are!" The tall blonde man rolled his eyes.

"Your studio?!" Logan stood up so he'd be face to face with the new guy, "This was my studio longer than it was yours, I'm sure!"

"Ah..." He paused and laughed a bit, "You must be Logie then?"

"Um...h-how do you know my name?"

"They talk about you around here a lot!" He nodded.

"T-They do? What do they say?"

"Well...if someone skips lunch to continue dancing the other instructors will tell them not to be a _Logie, _but this whole time I thought it was just a slang term." The blonde shrugged.

"They...s-say that about me?" Logan's tone dropped from being angry to a more melancholy pitch. The change didn't go unnoticed by the man.

"Um, yeah. But I bet there reasons are dumb...it's no big deal. So...what dance were you doing before I came in? I saw a bit...not the whole thing, though. It was really good, especially when you started punching the mirror, like it added emotion and...and...I'm rambling, sorry." He blushed. He wanted to get off the previous subject, but he certainly went a bit overboard at the same time.

"You saw that?" He stared at his feet, not moving his gaze one bit.

"Yeah! It was amazing!"

"Oh...it was just a piece that I used in a competition a while back. First time we lost, though, and that's been bothering me lately. I'll come here and practice it every morning and night if it means I can be perfect. The dance has to be perfect."

He laughed, "Someone's a bit of a..."

"Perfectionist, I know." Logan mumbled, crossing his arms, "What's your name, blondie?"

"Kendall."

"I hope you don't mind me sneaking in, Kendall." Logan nodded.

"I don't, if anything I should be happy you're improving. Maybe you'll be as good as I am someday." Kendall smiled.

"Whoa...hold on. What?"

"You don't work here anymore, they must've replaced you with me after you lost that competition." He raised a thick eyebrow and smirked.

"NO! I'm far better than you ever will be! BELIEVE ME." Logan shot back.

Kendall just shrugged and lifted the brunette's backpack for him, handing over the red item and waving for him to leave, "I have a class to teach, meaning...it's time for you to leave."

Logan grabbed it angrily and turned to leave, but a loud clank on the studio floor caused both of the men to freeze in their tracks and turn around. Lying in between them were an old, beat up pair of pointe shoes. They were tiny and certainly looked like a woman's pair of slippers.

"You forgot something." Kendall went to reach for the shoes, but Logan dove in and got them before the blonde could touch their silky exterior, "Dude...I don't think those will fit your feet..."

"They aren't mine." Logan replied flatly, his back to Kendall. He didn't want to look the man in the eyes, as his were now bloodshot and glassy with tears.

"Who's are they then?"

"My mum's...I better get home and give them to her, I've gotta leave, Kendall. Good bye." With that, the raven-haired dancer ran off, not bothering to turn around or even pay attention to his surroundings. Kendall watched and waved, being slightly disappointed that he even asked about the slippers.

Logan was doused by rain the moment he stepped outside. A large overcast of dark clouds followed and the sky went straight from looking like it was mid-morning to late at night. Logan just adjusted his hoodie and hoped that it'd dry when he got home. At the moment, the thought of home warmed him up, but just a bit. Home was lovely, but being in a house all by yourself isn't too fun. Regret filled his cocoa brown eyes at were too busy watching for cars to care about the sadness that was soon to follow.

* * *

_"Logan! LOGAN! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Echoed through the small house so much that you probably could hear Stephen's voice around the block, at the beach, "Logan, I swear! Answer me!" _

_The brunette wrapped his arms around his stomach weakly and let the tears fall. He wanted so badly to yell out, "I'm right here, daddy! Save me, daddy!" but at the same time, he was too ashamed to say a word. His father was his everything and all he had left, there was no way he could let him down by allowing him to find out about the mess he had gotten himself into._

_Logan grabbed his duffel bag and stood up, flushing the toilet and then wiping his mouth with a wash cloth. He tried his best to remove anything that'd give away that he was even there in the first place, by throwing away the piece of fabric and turning off the sink faucet. As far as his father knew, he was dead, and it had to stay that way. _

_"LOGAN, PLEASE...IF YOU'RE HERE, PLEASE...PLEASE ANSWER ME..." His voice dropped, "P-Please a-answer m-me..."_

_"Daddy..." Logan whispered and choked back a sob, opening the window, pulling his tiny body through the opening and placing his feet into the sand, "I love you..." He murmured, even though he knew very well that his father couldn't hear him. _

_The teenager peered out at the New Zealand ocean that was in front of him and the miles of empty beach. He kicked a tiny pile of sand on the ground before wandering out to where the road was and heading for the airport. He was going to get on the first flight they had and he wasn't turning back either...he promised himself that he wouldn't look, because it'd just break his heart even more, and that was the last thing he needed on his mind._

* * *

Logan had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realise that he was coming up to the apartment building he lived in. He let himself into the lobby and schlepped through the room, dripping water all over the place. The snobby workers peered at him angrily, but he could be just as mean, and sent back and even worse glare. Probably didn't look too intimidating, though, as he still held onto the pink, silky pointe shoes. He didn't even bother to wait for the elevator and took the stairs instead, holding onto the railing with a death grip, being terrified that if he didn't, he'd slip and fall.

"Home sweet home." He snarled, opening the door and locking it behind him. The tiny, one roomed apartment looked so drab with all the lights on. It really showed how beige the walls were and how old the mattress he owned was.

No matter how old the thing got, he still held onto it, knowing that getting a new bed would be a waste of money, heck...he could sleep on the floor if he had to. Logan slid past the tiny kitchen table that he managed to cram into the room and went over to the hook he had on the wall, placing the slippers back on it, kissing their heels before sitting down, his gaze didn't leave them, though. He smiled slightly, but felt like crying at the same time.

"I miss you too, Mommy." He whimpered like a little child. He could always call his father, but it wasn't that easy for his mother.

"I've still kept my promise...see...I told you." He spoke out loud, just hoping she'd hear.

"It's all because of you, Mommy. Are you proud of me? I was so proud of you when I was little." He found his maturity dropping as he spoke to the shoes as if his mom really was standing in front of him again.

He bit his lip and dropped his head in shame. No matter how real it felt, she wasn't actually there...

* * *

_"Mommy! Mommy!" 4-year-old Logan squealed into to phone, "Mommy, when you get home, will you teach me the dance you learned today? Pretty, pretty please, Mommy."_

_"Of course, darling." She spoke, her voice like velvet. She was the most perfect and beautiful girl in Logan's mind. _

_"Thank you, mommy. I love you. One day I'm going to be a dancer just like you are!" He beamed, handing the phone back to his dad._

_"I'll help you along the way, sweetie. I love you too, Logie." _

_~3 years later~_

_"Look at this one, dad!" Logan smiled brightly, pulling through the big box of photographs his father had pulled out. _

_"That was a lot of fun, Logie. Let's go fishing again soon, okay?" _

_"Can we, daddy?" His eyes lit up._

_"I promise, we will. It'll be a blast!" _

_"I love you so much, daddy. You're the best." Logan nuzzled his face into his father's chest._

_"I love you too, Logan." _

_"Hey...what's this one?" The young boy asked._

_"That's Mommy at one of her recitals." Stephen grinned._

_"Daddy...where is Mommy? She's been gone for an awfully long time."_

_Mr. Lester took his sons hands into his and looked the boy in the eyes sadly, "Mommy passed away, Logie. She got into a car accident when you were four..." _

_Logan's smile faded, "She did?"_

_"She's still with us, though, dear."_

_"How, daddy?"_

_Mr. Lester pointed to his son's chest and then to his, "She's in our hearts and she'll be there forever."_

_"I'm glad she's in my heart, daddy." Logan smiled proudly._

_"I am too." Stephen grinned and tried his best to not cry in front of his child. _

_Seconds later, the little boy had crawled onto his lap and snuggled up there, "Mommy's watching us right now, and she's happy that were happy." He finally said._

* * *

Logan blew a kiss to the slippers and headed for his bed. It was the afternoon, but he was exhausted from getting up so early to dance. He didn't mind, though...he was going to do whatever it took to get his job back and fulfill the dream his mother never got a chance to achieve. He was going to do that, just that, and nothing less than that, even if it was the last thing he did.

Logan smiled to himself and pulled the covers up and over his head, "Goodnight, mom."


End file.
